Dear Padfoot, Love Remus
by RavenclawDoctorSilveo
Summary: When he's told to 'lie low at Lupin's,' Sirius finds a nearly-fourteen-year-old letter on Remus' dresser that the werewolf wrote after the deaths of Lily and James. Sort of angst-y.


Dear Sirius,

Why? How could you do such a thing? How could you betray Lily and James to Lord Voldemort? We always knew you were slightly mad. With a family like yours it's nearly impossible not to be.

In my more depressed moments, I think about how we must have been so stupid not to see it, but when I'm more sane, I realize that you never left us a clue. You always hated your family, even Regulus, whom you loved for about a year and then only pretended to care about.

I know better. I know you better than anyone else. At least, I thought I did. Now I'm not so sure. I thought I knew that you only pretended to despise Regulus, when, in reality, you actually cared about him enough to run to his bedside when he nearly died in our fourth year. I knew you had trouble sleeping, and I knew you awaited the nightmares every time you got into bed when you were completely sober—which was why you drank a lot. James always thought it was because you just loved firewhiskey, and doing things illegally, and it partly was, but I knew you better. I knew, I knew, I knew.

So why did I not know you had betrayed your beliefs, your friends, and _me_ for the Dark Side? Even now I can't believe you are guilty—I thought I knew every part of you, every look, every expression, every meaning behind every sentence. I was so wrong, wasn't I? The one question that keeps running through my mind is: why? Why, Sirius, why? _Why_ would you want to give up James, your best friend, Lily, your voice of reason, Peter, your follower, and _me_? Me, the one person who loved you—hell, I still love you, even though you basically killed three of my four best friends. You may as well have killed the fourth, too. You're gone, guilty, and I can never see you again.

Who will help me now? Who will hold me after the transformations, calming me down, telling me you love me despite the monster that lives inside. Who will love me now? My family is dead. My friends are dead, and _you_, the one I care about most, are _gone_. And it's your own bloody fault. Who will keep me sane? Somehow, with your bouts of insanity, you helped me maintain my own presence of mind.

Was it all my fault? Where did I go wrong? When did I let you go? When did you become distant? Did I make it so? Was I the one that pushed you away? Was it because of what I am, what I am capable of doing? When did you finally stop caring? When did you finally just snap? Was it really all my fault? Did I not love you enough, Sirius? Were we too cautious (mostly me) and too reckless (mostly you) to love each other properly?

But you never were distant. You said you were in love, 'absolutely, positively in love' with me. You could make me feel like I was more than a monster. I was even more than human. When I think of you too much—when I can actually believe, just for a moment, that you're actually here—you still can. Did I ever do the same for you? Did I drive your nightmares away? Or were you just lying when you said that I could put you to sleep even after a cruciatus curse? Now I wonder if you knew what those felt like. You never told me much about your family, except that you hated them and they were 'all bloody bastards, the whole lot of them,' and you didn't give a damn whether any of them lived or died. Those were your words, anyway, and you were partly drunk when you said those things, but I still think you're more lucid when you're slightly intoxicated. Maybe it's part of the inbreeding. Maybe it's just the Blacks. Did they ever torture you? Did anyone ever torture you, Sirius? Did I not protect you enough? Did I not do a good enough job?

If you were here right now, you'd laugh at that and make an inappropriate joke. I loved those. I loved you. I still do, but you're gone now, probably forever, and I'll never see you again. Ever. I'll never see any of them again, but you're the only one I'll miss with such an ache that I wonder why I don't join Lily and James. Would that be better to living without my friends for the rest of my miserable, monster-ridden life? If you were here, you'd want me to keep carrying on and smiling through. But you're not here, and you never will be.

Goodbye, Sirius Black.

I love you.

~Remus Lupin

**Moons—you left this on your dresser. You've kept it after nearly fourteen years? Do you need a hug? ~Sirius**


End file.
